One Unlucky Kenshin!
by sRoze
Summary: What if someone doubted the one thing Kenshin is good at? Kenshin's morning laundry chore gets interrupted by a very, very angry Kaoru. How is he going to buy his way out of this? Poor Kenshin! [One-Shot]


Konichiwa!

Summary: What if someone doubted the one thing Kenshin is good at? Kenshin's morning laundry chore gets interrupted by a very, very angry Kaoru. How is he going to buy his way out of this? Poor Kenshin! One-Shot

Warning: Pardon the grammar. Bleh, am still trying to improve myself from that aspect.

Disclaimer: I do not own the unlucky hitokiri-turned-rurouni, the hot-blooded Kendo teacher and her smirking brat of a student, plus all other Rurouni Kenshin characters.

Have fun reading!

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**One Unlucky Kenshin!**

by: sRoze

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"Baka, baka, baka…" 

The shoji threw open.

"KENSHIN!"

The rurouni startled from his morning laundry. The sudden movement caused the dirty water to splash onto him, wetting his hakama.

Kenshin Himura looked gloomily at the patches of water on his clothing, and sighed. He really ought to get extra pants. It just wasn't practical to own only two pairs and alternating them every other day.

His other one was flapping idly on the clothesline, damp and heavy. Kenshin eyed it wryly. Great. He would just have to wait for the legs of his gray hakama to dry. And he was hoping to wear _this_ pair for at least a couple more days. Now he needed to wash them the first thing the next morning.

Filthy water. Bah. Then again, if the water blots weren't too obvious, he supposed he could skip washing them till they truly got dirty.

Standing up, Kenshin straightened himself. He shook his legs hard in a vain effort to make them dry quicker. Giving up, he turned his attention to the fuming woman standing cross-armed on the porch.

Oh boy, was Kaoru Kamiya fuming mad.

"Kenshin."

A chill snaked down his spine. Kenshin thought this deceptively soft tone was more lethal than the open yell that upset him earlier, which resulted in his hakama getting wet, which in turn meant he had one more piece of laundry to do tomorrow. Maybe.

He put on a big beam and tried to look apologetic. Not that he knew what exactly he had done to incur the Kamiya wrath. "Yes, Kaoru-dono?"

"Do you know what this is?" Slow and steady. Calm, if not deceivingly so. The young Kendo teacher stiffly brought up a pile of what looked like…

"Your kimono?"

"Yes." She shook her head carefully, eyes narrowing dangerously. "My _best_ kimono. My favorite kimono." Then coolly, she added. "Do you happen to know what happened to it, Kenshin?"

Kenshin detected something not quite right in her undertone. That question had a menacing feel to it. "Oro?"

"Right. Let me show you." She unfolded the robe and thrust it before her. "Now tell me, what do you see?"

Kenshin gulped visibly, though he didn't see why he should. It surely wasn't his fault that the bright golden kimono now had bits of staining yellow all over it. The shredded marks on one of the sleeves had nothing to do with him too. And so were the many disintegrated strands of the kimono material, especially around the hems.

Nope, sirree. He had no idea what caused all those. No idea at all. Really.

Then why did he feel he had a guilty-as-hell look plastered on his face?

Apparently, Kaoru wanted to know the reason too.

"Tell me, Kenshin. What is this – " she pointed to the yellow stains, " – this – " to the shreds on the sleeves, " – and this – " to the stray strands at the hemlines, " – doing on my best, _favorite_ kimono."

"Sessha… Sessha doesn't know, that he doesn't." He couldn't help it if his expression was always one of perpetual guilt, no, that he couldn't.

Catching the fiery rage in her eyes, the ex-Hitokiri genuinely feared for his life. Kaoru-dono, as much of a tomboy as she can sometimes be, is still a lady at heart. She had only ONE best kimono, and she treasured that precious piece of cloth so lovingly she would only wear them on very, very special occasions.

Kenshin doesn't want to know what Kaoru is capable of doing if she realized that kimono of hers suffered any kinds of damage.

Like he had a choice now anyway. He was about to find out.

"You don't know, Kenshin?" She came inches away from the man's astonished face. Then she backed away, and primly examined her fingernails. "Of course you don't. You are just doing your laundry here, all innocent and unknowing… Just _washing_, just_ scrubbing_, just _twisting_ every piece to make them dry and clean." She spat those verbs venomously. "Oh yes, Kenshin. You don't know where these stains, these marks, these broken strands come from."

Kenshin blinked twice. Was Kaoru suggesting that he, the Great Kenshin Himura, Master of Domestic Affairs (and External as well, if he may add), Savior of the Kamiya Dojo's Residents, _caused_ all that? Why, if there was one thing he's good at besides swordsmanship, it's doing the laundry. And cooking. That made it two, but Kenshin wasn't about to care.

"Kaoru-dono thinks it is sessha who did that?" Disbelief strained his normally mild voice.

"Well, whoever who came in contact with it after I worn it to the ball the other day. This kimono went through my hands. And yours. Only." The brilliant blue eyes flashed in unveiled fury. "Kenshin, if you did this…"

"Sessha swears he didn't do anything to your kimono, that he certainly didn't, Kaoru-dono!"

He searched his memory frantically for anything related to that particular clothing. Ah, yes. He remembered pulling the dripping wet piece out of the tub of water. He had only gazed momentarily at it, recalling how lovely the raven-haired beauty looked that night. And then, just a tender stroke on the sleeve and shoulder area as he recalled how perfect it felt to have her arms circle his own.

The rurouni frowned. The light touch didn't exactly made those scratches, did it? Unless he applied more force than he could remember. Then again – Kenshin lifted his hands and inspected his fingers – his nails weren't long enough to create such marks.

The low growl instantly brought him back to the present. Kaoru was eyeing him with dirty suspicion, and then passed the verdict furiously. "Kenshin Himura! This is my best dress! My ONLY best dress! Look what your washing's done to it! You spoiled it entirely! You… I…"

She faltered. And then, unexpectedly, she burst out in tears.

A surprised "oro" escaped him. As he stared at her sobbing form, Kenshin was faced with a dilemma: should he protest his innocence, or should he comfort the distressed woman first? The next sentence he uttered would be of life-or-death importance. He could try denying her accusations, but that would only bring about more wailing and crying. Or he could go console Kaoru first, but ignoring those accusations consequentially meant he submit to them.

Either way, a headache is inevitable.

Sighing, he decided he could not bear seeing Kaoru miserable. He contemplated whether nearing her would be an acceptable risk to take. Then, considering her current condition, Kenshin assumed she was harmless enough.

Clearing his throat, he began softly: "Sessha is sorry, Kaoru-dono…"

Before he could continue "for making you cry", he felt a fist connecting hard with his lower jaw, accompanied with a loud and teary "KENSHIN NO BAKA!"

Obviously his assumption on Kaoru's state was gravely inaccurate. Even in distress, this damsel could still pack one heck of a punch. He "oro"-ed long and loudly as he flew through the air, landing few feet away from where he originally stood. His vision went round in circles.

Immediately Kaoru pounced on him, shaking the grown man like a huge gale would to a fragile leaf. Indeed, from the pitiful expression on Kenshin's slightly green face, one wouldn't have guessed he was the legendary swordsman Battousai Himura. In fact, to the eyes of curious passersby Kenshin looked more the part of a henpecked husband. Kaoru, of course, would seem perfect in her role as the fussy wife.

"Baka, baka, baka! You ought to be sorry all right, for spoiling my beautiful kimono!" A painful whack to the head sent Kenshin "oro"-ing again.

"Sessha didn't do it!"

Another punch. "My precious kimono!" And yet another smack. "My lovely, lovely kimono!"

"Oro…!"

"Hoi, busu!"

Kaoru froze and turned slowly to the source of aggravation, her eyes burning with increased fury. "Why you, little pest…"

Kenshin never thought Yahiko's voice could sound as angelic as it did that moment. Though he knew Kaoru's attention was diverted, he made no attempts to move away lest the quick-tempered girl got reminded of his existence.

"Busu! Guess what I found!" He smirked and unrolled the robes he held in his hand. It was one of Kaoru's kimono. "Know what happened?"

Both Kaoru and Kenshin gasped; one from utmost horror, the other in bafflement. There were the telltale marks again: patchy stains, scratch marks, broken strands. On the sleeves, on the front, down the side…

"Ooooooooo…!" Kenshin sensed the wrath Kaoru boiled him with beginning to drain towards the young boy walking leisurely at their direction, the offensive piece of cloth clutched in his hand.

Carefully and quietly Kenshin stood up behind the seething woman, trying to keep his presence as small as possible. He couldn't help but feel a tinge of pity for Yahiko. After all, the spiky-haired lad had saved him from certain death in the hands of a fuming mad Kamiya.

But he wasn't stupid enough to tempt fate once again by interfering, that he definitely wasn't. Best leave it to Yahiko to deal with his enraged teacher. He brought it onto himself, anyway.

"You pesky brat! What did you do to my kimono?" Her nostrils flared dangerously. Kenshin imagined fire flaming out of them, and then suppressed the amusing mental scenario with a not-too-gentle cough.

Yahiko stopped in front of Kaoru, just slightly out of her reach. Smugness was written all over his boyish face. He shoved the wrinkled kimono before Kaoru. "Yours," he said simply.

Kaoru's eyes blazed brightly. "You… you…"

And then something clicked in Kenshin's brain. A nerve on his forehead twitched visibly, all traces of sympathy magically lost from his heart. "Yahiko, don't wait till the last minute to admit your wrongdoings. Someone might have suffered just because you were late in apologizing."

"Who says I'm here to apologize?" Yahiko stuck his tongue out at the two. "I'm just telling Kaoru that her kimono's damaged."

"Yaaahhhiiiikooooo…" The woman lurched forward and grabbed the boy by his collar, bestowing upon him the Kamiya death glare. If looks could kill, both Kenshin and Yahiko would have been dead by now, and Kaoru wouldn't even need to lift a finger.

Then Kaoru stretched her free arm backwards and pulled Kenshin's gi hard. The man was caught unawares and almost fell. Another innocent "oro?" escaped him before he could steady himself.

"You two! Either one of you did this… You'll be sorry once I find out who the real culprit is here! Either one of you…" Her fierce glare flickered from a rueful Kenshin to a smirking Yahiko. "All right… WHO DID THIS?"

"Ah, neither, Kaoru!" The glee in the boy's voice was poorly disguised. "Not Kenshin, not me! But I found this in your room. Maybe he can answer your question!"

With that, he lifted his left arm, which Kenshin quickly realized was hidden behind his back all this while. The former samurai caught a glint of white – fur? – as Yahiko threw his palm in front of his teacher's furious red face.

Kaoru Kamiya suddenly found herself coming face-to-face, eye-to-eye with a furry white mouse, long tail, tiny ears, pointed nose and all. Woman and mouse stared at one another, sapphire meeting ruby in a showdown of surprise, stun and shock.

Well, at least on Kaoru's part.

For an excruciatingly long moment, there was only stillness. Then, the mouse tilted its head curiously, and squeaked a loud greeting.

And suddenly a flurry of events unfolded.

The first thing Kenshin's brain registered was Kaoru's terrified "EEEEEEEEEEEEEEK!" And then she jumped onto him, all four limbs clinging on like one would to a tree when one is trying to escape a mad dog. "G-G-GET IT AWAY FROM ME!"

The momentum combined with the surprise factor suddenly caused Kenshin to lose his balance.

"Oro…"

Step by step he staggered backwards, arms flapping ungracefully in an attempt to regain stability. It wasn't easy, however, not when a shrieking Kaoru was hugging the air out of him.

"Orororo…"

And then his ankle knocked against something wooden. Kenshin tripped and felt himself falling behind, tagging a yelping Miss Kaoru along as well. As he tumbled, his keen sense of hearing picked up the swish of waters…

His laundry!

Kenshin landed squarely in the tub of swirling gray water. It splashed around him, soaking his gi, his hakama, and the ends of his ponytail. Yahiko's laughter rang loud and clear in the late morning air.

Kaoru was mercifully spared from the wet ordeal, being on top of Kenshin when he fell into the water. She tried to stand, but somewhere her foot got entangled with his legs and she slipped again, squashing a dazed Kenshin.

"Oro!"

Kaoru cursed under her breath. Ignoring him, she used the poor man's chest to propel herself up, and finally found her footing. Snatching the kimono from a chuckling Yahiko and picking up her "best, favorite" one from the ground, Kaoru turned towards Kenshin and threw them angrily at him.

"Just make sure the next time I see these two kimonos, they have to be in perfect condition!"

Then she stomped away crossly, a whirlwind of heated energy. Yahiko couldn't stop laughing, so Kaoru sent a death glare to shut him up. It worked apparently. But as soon as she disappeared into the dojo, he doubled over with laughter again.

"Man! That has to be the funniest thing ever! Did you see her face when she saw the mouse? God! I have to tell Sano this. Ciao, Kenshin!"

Without even a look backwards Yahiko was gone.

The lone rurouni sighed heavily. So much for getting help. A sore began to spread around his rear, which had taken the full impact of the fall. He wanted to stand up, but the cool water soaking through his hakama actually felt good. Even if it's dirty water. He could use a bath later too.

And then suddenly a thought flashed in his head. Hakama? Dirty water?

Kenshin groaned inwardly as he noticed the piece of clothing was thoroughly wet, completely drenched to the skin. Though, he had no choice but to wear this pair at least until the end of the day. The other one was still hanging out on the clothesline, waving in the wind as if mocking the unlucky wanderer-turned-slave.

And it was impossible to escape washing the dirty hakama tomorrow morning, which translated to meaning another piece of laundry to clean.

How nice.

No, wait. He forgot about Kaoru's kimonos. Not only must he find a way to get rid of those yellow stains – he preferred not to think what may have caused them – Kenshin must also stitch up those fraying strands plus deal with the scratch marks on the sleeves.

Ah… So now sewing comes into the picture as well.

How truly wonderful everything is. Uh-huh.

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THE END

Posted on 12/3/2005 1.10AM


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